(Thanks to all my reviewers for reviewing, one in particular. This person goes by the name "Duckie" and left a flame saying I give all the Angel fics a bad name. I thought maybe this person just didn't like it because it was slash. I personally like Warren best with Rogue. So funny thing, when I posted a Rogue/Warren, they left another flame, saying that sucked too. So I wonder, if you don't like those fics, which ones do you like? I mean obviously from your comments you don't like good ones, so do you prefer ones where Warren is a murderer/rapist?)

If you leave good pretty reviews, then I love you, ignore my angry little message here, and enjoy this next chapter…

Angel's Body

The following morning, I woke lying next to a warm body. Warren was lying against me, his bare chest against mine, his wings casually across the bed on top of us. I blinked and looked at him curiously. He was smiling in his sleep.

He stirred, and his two blue eyes met mine. "Hello."

"Hi," I replied, tightening my grip around him. "Sleep well?"

"Best ever," he said sheepishly, yawning. He was so cute in the morning. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

"What?" he asked, catching on to my game.

"Just looking," I said, "I get to look all I want, right?"

"Sure," he settled against me, watching me curiously. After a few minutes of gazing absently into each other's eyes, he asked, "Having fun?"

"Lots," I answered. He pulled his body away and sat up in bed, stretching his arms. I watched him closely as he moved around the room looking for his clothes that had been thrown here and there. I starred carefully at his body. Body of an Angel, he had. It was thin, but muscular, pale, but not too white. The way his firm smooth legs met his tight buttocks and his back curves slightly, until it reached his wings, which emerged into a beautiful ten foot wing span when fully erect. Again, he caught me starring and looking inquiringly at me, "What's so amazing?"

"You," I grinned and got out of bed, starting to search for my clothes.

"Where the heck did we throw our clothes last night?" he asked, sighing.

"I think they're on the stairs," I said walking up to him and pulling him against my body, "But do we really need them?"

"Well you don't," he said, "But I feel odd being naked in places other then bed or in the bathroom."

"What about in my arms?" I asked.

"Well yes, there's there too," Warren blushed, kissing my shoulder, the height at which his head reached.

"So what's for breakfast," I asked, putting my arm tightly around his waist and leading him towards the stairs. I casually picked up his pajama pants as he walked and handed them to him. He shrugged and dropped them again.

"What do you want?" Warren asked.

"Have you ever had banana bread pancakes before?" I asked, thinking of this little restaurant I remembered that served them, which I went to a lot of breakfast.

"No," Warren said.

"Well we best be goin' and gettin' you some then," I said pulling him into a short and sweet kiss.

"We'll have to get dressed for that," he reminded me.

"I can handle it," I smiled; pulling him back towards the stairs, where are clothes lied sprawled out everywhere.